


Hammock

by ticklishraspberries



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Crushing, Fluff, Flustered Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Loser's Clubhouse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, The Losers Club, Tickle Fights, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 06:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticklishraspberries/pseuds/ticklishraspberries
Summary: Eddie wants a turn on the hammock, but Richie is being difficult as usual.





	Hammock

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a scene from Chapter 2, but there are no actual spoilers present! Hope y’all enjoy!

“It’s my turn, asshole!”

Richie looked up from his comic with an unamused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Your ten minutes is up,” Eddie said, sticking his watch in Richie’s face.

He batted his hand away. “I never agreed to ten minutes,” he replied.

“You literally did, we all did.”

The other losers were much more interested in anything but Richie hogging the hammock; Ben had put so many cool things in their hideout, Richie could keep the damn hammock to himself for all that they cared.

Except for Eddie, apparently.

With an aggravated huff, Eddie toed off his sneakers and climbed into the hammock as well, stretching his legs out beside Richie’s torso, muttering something along the lines of “god, you’re so fucking difficult.”

Richie didn’t seem to mind this one bit. In fact, he actually seemed a little flustered by it, holding his comic book up so that it covered his face.

But see, Eddie liked to annoy Richie almost as much as Richie enjoyed annoying him. It was their little game that they played with each other, pushing one another’s buttons. Stan had often compared them to an old married couple, which made Eddie mime gagging and Richie, surprisingly, to keep his mouth shut for once.

Watching Richie immerse himself in his comic book pissed him off for some reason. ‘ _ He should be paying attention to me, _ ’ he thought.

A small, mischievous smile slipped onto his face as he wiggled his toes, moving his foot to prod at Richie’s wrist.

A soft snort from behind the comic, and half-hearted swat away. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

He used his toes to prod Richie’s chest, put his foot against his cheek, even managed to slip his glasses off of his face, and Richie just ignored him, aside from the occasional scrunched-up nose or push.

Eddie was running out of ideas. “What’s so good about that dumb comic that you’re ignoring me, Rich?”

“It has your mom in it,” Richie replied without missing a beat, making a disgusting jerking off gesture with one hand.

Eddie poked Richie’s ribs with his foot, making a giggle slip out of his mouth. Well, that would certainly provide better entertainment.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone upbeat and teasing. “Are you ticklish, Richie?”

Across the clubhouse, the other losers seemed to all look over at that question, knowing the answer to be a quite hard “yes,” amusement painted on their features.

“Fuck off,” Richie replied, freckled cheeks now a slightly more obvious shade of pink.

Eddie grinned, wiggling his toes against Richie’s side. “I mean, I barely have to touch you to make you giggle.”

As if to prove his point, Richie let out a string of high-pitched giggles, and the hammock rocked a bit as the two boys squirmed.

It didn’t seem to dawn on Eddie that this was all a really unsafe decision until Richie’s skinny fingers wrapped around his ankle.

He gulped, before his mouth fell open in a shriek of laughter, desperately trying to yank his foot back from Richie’s tickling.

“J-J-Jesus, Eds, you’re gonna bring the clubhouse down!” Bill cried, hands over his ears.

“So help me!” he shrieked in response, kicking his feet and flailing like wild.

The other five losers all exchanged looks, trying not to smile. Clearly, they weren’t going to do shit. Traitors.

Richie’s fingers were worming beneath his toes now, making him squeal and literally send the hammock knocking them both onto the hard, dirty floor.

Both boys groaned, Richie clutching his elbow as Eddie jumped to his feet, brushing dust and dirt off his shorts.

“You suck,” Richie said, sitting up, brows furrowed in slight pain

“No, you fucking suck,” Eddie replied, but when he saw the way Richie was cradling his arm, he leaned down. “Lemme see.”

Richie held his arm out, letting Eddie examine the bruise that was already starting to form there.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I should have known if I tickled you, you’d almost fucking kill me.”

Eddie chuckled fondly. “Yeah, you should have, idiot.”

Richie only giggled fondly.

Their eyes locked for a moment before they both turned pink and averted their gazes.

Leaning down, Eddie impulsively pressed a quick kiss to the bruise, whispering, “There you go, it’s all better now.”

“Thanks, Eds.”

“Can you two stop being idiots and get over here? We’re trying to decide what to hang up here.”

Helping each other to their feet, they walked over to the rest of their friends, shoulders brushing.

From then on, they just shared the hammock.


End file.
